


Impressions

by greenhairedfae



Category: Incredibles (Pixar Movies), The Incredibles
Genre: F/F, wildly extrapolated characterization
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27710320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenhairedfae/pseuds/greenhairedfae
Summary: Miranda Atwood has a past. Evelyn was a part of it. They know each other in ways no one else does.
Relationships: Evelyn Deavor/Mirage
Kudos: 5





	Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> This is just the first chapter.

Miranda Atwood unnerved Rick Dicker. It wasn’t that she didn’t fit the office, if anything she slipped seamlessly into it with such ease that one would think she’d been born into grey slacks and filing cabinets. Nor could he fault her performance, she was unfailingly polite and good at the job she actually was conscripted into, which would normally pay an order of magnitude on any secretary.

It was just that every so often Rick caught the ghost of a smile, like she was laughing at a secret, and his blood ran cold, and he was reminded she didn’t work here for the salary.

Atwood had a skill for inserting herself into situations to precisely maximize leverage. She had turned over evidence against her former employer after his untimely demise and walked away from his wreckage with a new job and a new identity.

The NSA held a steady routine that Miranda did not usually regret. It kept her out of prison, and more importantly she enjoyed this work.

Every person was a puzzle of wants and needs, requiring only the lightest of suggestions to think they were acting out of their own volition on the path she set for them.

She was the only person for cases like this and they both knew it.

He handed her the file.

Miranda smiled. “How long do I have?”

“We needed it last year, when we first had--” Dicker cleared his throat in discomfort. “We’re giving you three days.”

“What resources do I have at my disposal?” Atwood flipped through the pages with long nimble fingers.

“We’re willing to grant her immunity and a private jet out of here but we hope it won’t come to that.”

“I never fail Mr. Dicker.” It was tonally reassuring, but belied a acerbic edge. She was proud of her work.

“I told them that, Miss Atwood.”

“Thank you for your confidence, Agent.” She smiled again.

There were days when Miranda Atwood lived in the shadow of past lives and bright sparking blue eyes. She kept her focus in the present, task oriented. Her file called it _‘ruthless efficiency’_ and she wondered if the agent would trust her with this if he knew the extent to which that was true.

“I’ll need an orange jumpsuit and three hours.”

Dicker was right to be unnerved. Miranda was a killer of titans.


End file.
